


The Heir to Crusher's Crush

by HidingTeacher



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Chaos, Crushes, Crying, Cute, F/M, Falling In Love, Feelings, First Crush, Fluff, Humor, Magic, Magical Accidents, Romance, Scheming, Secret Crush, Singing, Sleepovers, Slow Burn, Study Date, Sweet, Tea Parties, new ship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HidingTeacher/pseuds/HidingTeacher
Summary: She hadn't come to the Officer's Academy looking for love, but it seems that Annette has developed a bit of a crush on someone she has no business falling for.Will she seek to join him in the depths of his darkness, or will her light be enough to cast out even his gloom?Or will she leave him be, simply a shadow of a memory?I'm reasonably certain than this is the first work to address Annette/Hubert on this site. Here's to trying new things!Hiatus due to heartbreak
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic & Mercedes von Martritz, Annette Fantine Dominic/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 26
Kudos: 50





	1. A Late Beginning

Late! She couldn’t afford to be late to class again! Her heartbeat quickened as she raced down the stairs- ginger curls bouncing, coming dangerously close to unraveling after all the work she had put in this morning to tame them.

Still, it was not as though she regretted how she had spent the morning. Surely it was reasonable to help Ashe with his tactics assignment. And how could she resist saying hello to the monastery’s cats? And of course she could help Professor Manuela carry those papers up to the infirmary! No, tripping and scattering the papers all over the second floor wasn’t ideal… but she had cleaned up after herself. And she had helped Professor Manuela clean up after _her_ self when she saw…whatever had happened to her office. Annette shuddered at the thought of what could have caused such a mess. No matter though! It had been she that had conquered it, and Professor Manuela had been ever so grateful.

_By the Goddess… where was class again today?_

She stopped to search for the schedule she kept in her book bag, which full to the point it could reasonably have been called a library. After digging through tomes, battle records, and one precious doodle Mercedes had done in class, she unearthed (or perhaps… unbooked?) a small leather bound journal- carefully preserved from her time at the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad. But there was no time to be careful now- she flipped through the pages frantically.

_What day is it again… well yesterday was the 17 th so…_

Annette froze up. The 18th… that meant today was mage instruction today, with all the academy’s magic users together. How could she have forgotten? She swallowed as she put away her schedule, before taking time to smooth her uniform and tuck away some misbehaving hairs. Surely, if she was already going to be late, there was no reason not to at least look presentable. After all, she knew that as soon as she walked in, all of those eyes would be on her. Those eyes…

_No no no no, no Annette, you don’t have time to think about that right now!_

Despite her best efforts to gussy up, she tore off for the classrooms, hair bobbing in the wind. The mages would be in the Blue Lions’ classroom today- which meant she’d be sitting in her normal seat…right at the front of the classroom. There was no way she’d be able to sneak in without being noticed. Maybe she could just slide into the back row? Annette tried to distract herself from the situation- which was all too easy. After all… It was a shame to be spending such a lovely day inside. The birds were chirping, there was a cool breeze coming just off the mountains that surrounded Garreg Mach. A couple was walking arm in arm, did she know them? Oh, and look at the puppies that-

_Annette, come on!_

Without a moment to spare- several moments late in fact- Annette finally arrived. She took one last pause to steady herself. The only thing that could make this any worse would be walking in only to trip over her own two feet and cause an even bigger distraction. She shook her head… she was stirring up bad memories, not the sort of thing to focus on. This class was always such a struggle. No, it wasn’t the content, she was as studious as anyone after all. No, in recent weeks, this class had become a source of mild-yet not exactly unpleasant- anxiety for the ginger mage.

But that didn’t matter right now, or rather, Annette could not allow it to matter right now. Right now, she just had to get to her seat. With a shaking hand and an equally shaky breath, Annette slowly opened the classroom door. The only sound louder than her heartbeat was the creak of the door’s ancient hinges. She fully expected to find a room full of silent, hostile eyes as she peaked around the door.

Instead, she was greeted by the gentle hum of Linhardt snoring. The Imperial noble nearly always sat in the back of the class and was certainly always drowsing off. Annette couldn’t help but frown. Whenever they shared a class, she was always there to nudge Mercedes if she got too daydreamy, but it seemed that Linhardt had no such companion here. Annette seemed to recall she often saw her fellow mage in the company of a _much_ louder boy, he’d probably be just fine.

_You can’t just hide behind the door all class, let’s go!_

She was right of course; it was time to get in there. She could see her seat at the front of the room, and that saintly Mercie had saved her seat! There was no way she could just sneak into the back row now. The wooden door felt heavier than it had any right to as she opened it just wide enough to slide inside. She let out a light sigh. Thankfully, Professor Hanneman seemed too engrossed in his own lecture on crests to pay her any mind. The same, unfortunately, could not be said of her classmates.

The first eyes to meet Annette’s were the fierce pair that belonged to Lysithea. They sent a shiver all the way down Annette’s spine… and then right back up again. Annette had tried to be friendly with her on the first day of classes, but the young Alliance mage had this strange competitive edge to her, and didn’t seem interesting in anything that could distract her from her studies… like Annette was doing right now. Annette felt so small, being looked down on by only person in the room shorter than herself. She attempted a weak smile while mouthing, “sorry,” but her classmate had already turned around with a huff. 

The next pair of eyes was much kinder, as they were accompanied by Dorothea’s gentle smile. It seemed she had seen her peer’s less than empathetic reaction and took pity on the poor Annette. The songstress gave a quick wink- as if to tell Annette not to worry about it. For her own part, Annette wasn’t going to hold anything against Lysithea… she never seemed to enjoy Hanneman’s lectures after all. Still, Dorothea’s kindness wasn’t lost on Annette. It warmed her racing heart in just the way she needed. Dorothea had always been like that… always so friendly, and even if she couldn’t always understand why, Annette really did appreciate it. She had even started calling her Annie, even before she heard Mercie use the nickname!

_This isn’t too bad; I just need to make my way to my seat and-_

And then it happened… the one person she didn’t want to catch the gaze of. It was just a moment, just a fleeting glance, but it was more than enough. She bit her lower lip… she felt herself squirm slightly despite herself… all under the brief gaze of a light green eye.

She hurried the rest of her way to her seat, head down to shield both her eyes and her dignity as she berated herself. She simply couldn’t deny it anymore. It confused her, infuriated her at times even. She didn’t have time for stuff like that- it wasn’t why she was here! But there was no use denying what she had known to be true for weeks now. Could she not admit to herself such a simple fact?

The simple fact that she had developed a crush on Hubert von Vestra.

It had started innocently enough… just a silly little idea. Annette couldn’t help but notice Hubert from their first class together. He was so tall and intimidating, but his hair… it perplexed her to no end. Surely it had to obscure his vision, hanging over his right eye like that! Why would he put up with that? It was ridiculous. When she found herself bored in class, she’d imagine pushing up his hair, finally revealing that other eye. Maybe he was embarrassed by it? Maybe it was a different color or something? The mystery provided near endless daydreaming material.

Before she knew it, she had spent whole classes thinking about him. One day she could giggle thinking about tying back his hair into a cute little bun. The next she would imagine caressing his cheek as he finally let her see what he was hiding. Before she knew it, she couldn’t _stop_ thinking about him. While working on homework, while walking to the market… when she saw couples together in the dining hall… when she lay in bed unable to sleep…

Annette was flustered. This had been going on for weeks now. Why wouldn’t it just stop? She didn’t find herself thinking about boys often, but she was sure that when she did, they certainly weren’t like Hubert! He wasn’t especially friendly; he wasn’t known for being kind- quite the opposite in fact. By the Goddess, they had barely ever exchanged words! It wasn’t like she didn’t know of his reputation. He was the sort of person her classmates would whisper about but would never talk to. Rumors swirled of devious acts he had committed, the distaste he held for his classmates, his utter disregard for the Church’s commandments. On her best days, she imagined she could fix him. She could bring some joy to those mysterious eyes of his. She could set him straight, keep him on a good and righteous path. On her worst days, on the days she felt frustrated, weak, powerless… on those days- though she would never admit it- the thought of his deviancy excited her.

And she could _never_ admit this to Mercie. The very thought of doing so made her fidget in her seat. Annette was certain that her best friend would be supportive, of course. But what would she think? Mercedes was so good, so sweet, so pure, so unabashedly _holy._ As for Annette herself, she couldn’t say she was particularly devoted, but she didn’t have any particular reason to disbelieve. What would Mercie think of Annette’s infatuation with a boy who made no secret of his distain for the Church? Hubert was the antithesis of everything Annette loved in her best friend. Perhaps that contrast was what she found so intriguing about him.

Even if Mercie didn’t judge her… that might be even worse, because then she would certainly tease Annette mercilessly. Mercie had never been afraid to poke fun at her best friend if she as so much talked to a boy. Her teasing would be even worse if she found Annette had fallen for someone she barely knew. In recent weeks she began to fear the Kingdom’s best healer had begun to suspect her. The occasional knowing glance, her mischievous grins- even now, Mercedes was smiling happily to herself. Annette felt like she could see right through her. Was she that obvious? Could everyone else tell too? Could he…?

And if he could… what would he do? Would he hate her and try to avoid her? Would he appreciate the attention but refuse her? Would maybe, just maybe, wait after class to talk to her? Would he pull her aside and-

“Miss Annette,” came the warm yet stern voice from the front of the class. “While I’m thrilled you’ve decided to join us today, I must ask that you at least take out your textbook now that you’re here.”

Annette nearly jumped out of her skin and let out a noise like a frightened bird. Yes, that was right, she was here to learn after all. She searched through her bag, eventually finding the oh so heavy edition of _Crestological Mysteries_. Once again, she could feel every pair of eyes in the room on her back. It only took imagining one of those eyes to give her chills. But she couldn’t afford to focus on that any longer. She was a student first, and a love-struck young girl second.

And so, feet swinging just above the ground, Annette tried her absolute hardest to focus on the rest of Professor Hanneman’s lecture. Still, his droning on and on about crest research created the perfect environment for the mind to wander. She just couldn’t go on like this, she couldn’t let some silly infatuation get the best of her. She had worked far too hard to get to this point, and she had far too much she wanted to achieve to be distracted by something like this. She would talk to him. Yes, that was it. She’d simply strike up a conversation after class. Maybe she wouldn’t find him so mysteriously intriguing then. Maybe she just needed to get to know him to get over him and move on with her life. Besides, he seemed like he could use some friends.

It was decided then. She’d walk right up to him after class and… and… by the Goddess, what would she say? What did they have to talk about? Class? That wouldn’t work, she had hardly paid any attention today, she’d look like an even bigger fool than she already did! Wait… that could just about work. She could apologize for the distraction she caused by being late! Humility was a virtue after all, wasn’t it? Annette smiled to herself, her feet swinging along happily now. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was still a plan! The rest of class simply couldn’t pass quickly enough.

When it finally did end, Annette hurriedly tried to cram her book back into her bag. Why, oh why, did she have to carry around so many books all the time? It felt like it took her an eternity to negotiate with her bag to accept the book it had held less than an hour ago. And it might as well have taken that eternity, because when she looked up, her target had left his location. She looked around frantically, no longer caring about how ridiculous she surely looked. Then she spotted him, and her heart sank. The impossibly tall mage was bowing to a girl who, while not much taller than herself, Annette could never hope to reach, the Adrestian Princess.

It was only then that she remembered the other simple fact that she so often repressed, Hubert was a vassal to a royal house, and a famously loyal one at that. He was so rarely seen apart from his liege, and only seemed happy when he was of service to her. Annette knew what that meant all too well. Someone like that would never acknowledge anything that could distract from their duties… Someone like that would never notice her, no matter how hard she tried. The edges of her vision clouded with tears. Through them, she watched as the object of her affection walked away, focused only on his master.

Annette looked down, a solitary tear falling to the floor despite her best efforts to stifle them. She had been willing to admit he was interesting. She had been willing to admit she was interested, infatuated, even. But now… now she had to admit to the reality that she feared most.

_He’s just like father._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this. I've spent a good while in Hubert's headspace, so it was an exciting challenge to move beyond that.  
> If you're interested in seeing this continue, please do let me know. Gave it a Teen rating just to leave open some options for future chapters. Any feedback would be appreciated.  
> As I said in the summary, at the time of posting, this is the only Annette/Hubert piece on AO3. Thank you for taking a shot on something new. If you want more of this, I'll be happy to provide it. If not, I can always turn this into a one off and move on to something else.  
> Peace.


	2. Waving Through a Window

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert von Vestra simply wants his morning coffee. He may end the morning aspiring to a great deal more.

The kitchen staff of Garreg Mach Monastery, a usually composed and efficient group, had been thrown into a state of mild chaos. The staff, which had served kings and queens, knights and bishops, were, thrown into a craze every morning at a quarter till the 7th bell by one student. He did not seem especially powerful, nor could he exercise any particular authority over them. Yet he intimidated them in a way no other student could. The young noble exuded a cold darkness, as though he wouldn’t have any remorse snapping a neck that proved inconvenient.

As he entered the dining hall that cool morning, the cooks and servers that saw him scurried back to the kitchen one by one, until there was only one poor soul left vulnerable. Once she realized her fate, there was nothing left to do than to fulfill his order. If she were fast enough, she could complete it even before he arrived at the counter to place the same request that he did every day…  
  
“Coffee, please.”

Rumor had it, that one day, the girl that had been left to serve him had made his coffee too sweet to his liking. He had come back to return the beverage- and the poor girl had quit the very next day. No one knew why, and no one knew what became of her afterwards. Some whispered that she had been sent into hiding by the Church. Others whispered of horrors that simply can’t be written here. But since that day, not a single sugar crystal had been dropped into his drink.

For his part, Hubert was simply relieved to receive such efficient service. He was more than accustomed to being avoided, both by strangers and by peers. Such petty abuses could not harm a man whose heart was firm as stone. So long as they brought him his morning brew without delay, he would gladly endure. The only thing that truly offended him was…

 _Far too bitter, again_.

He wasn’t sure why, but the kitchen staff seemed utterly incapable of brewing a good cup of coffee. Sometimes too sweet, sometimes too bitter… once left out for him to take so that it had grown lukewarm at best. How could an organization, whose entire purpose was to provide meals for the residents of Garreg Mach, fail so miserably at this one, seemingly simple thing? Perhaps the Church was just as incompetent at running a kitchen as it was at ruling Fodlan. He couldn’t help but scowl, only doubling down on the unfriendliness he usually projected. Still, he’d rather them give him overly bitter coffee than a drink that was too sweet- at least he could do something about the former.

And so, he made his way undisturbed to the second level of the dormitories. However, his peace would not last long, for it was after ascending the stairs that his mood descended even further. Over the course of the last few weeks, a certain red headed noble had taken an especially obnoxious interest in Hubert. Their painfully bright personality and sing-songy voice irritated him to no end. Their interest in him was unexplainable, especially as Hubert time and time again ignored them. He was so close to his room, all he had to do was make it a few more feet and- oh non-existent goddess damn it all, he had been spotted.

“Salutations Hub-” Ferdinand von Aegir’s voice was interrupted by the slamming of Hubert’s door in his face.

The young mage sighed, finally safe in his own room. So long as he could keep the ginger buffoon at a distance, his day would not be too unbearable. Of course, Lady Edelgard would likely chide him for such rude behavior, but only halfheartedly. After all, no one was more frequently victimized by Ferdinand’s antics than the Imperial Princess herself. Hubert placed his coffee cup on his desk. Unfortunately, the Aegir house was simply too powerful to be dismissed entirely out of hand, for now. It seemed that Hubert would have to put up with the house’s heir for the foreseeable future… and at least tune him out for the moment, as even a door in his face would not stop his blathering. Hubert busied himself carefully mixing a half-spoonful of sugar into his coffee, accompanied by the unbidden and unrelenting soundtrack of Ferdinand’s voice. It seemed today he had something to say about their new professor, the divisive former mercenary. Hubert had no interest in listening to such drivel, and so occupied himself with filing through some paperwork. Working as loudly as he could to try to overcome the noise coming through his door, he made his way through the ever-growing mountain of letters on his desk. Updates from contacts back in Enbarr, correspondence with various merchants, and a seemingly endless stream of marriage proposals for his liege. Hubert had volunteered to take receive these on Lady Edelgard’s behalf some time ago, and while some provided light entertainment, most simply provided some heat when thrown into the fireplace.

My dearest reader is doubtless already aware of Hubert’s deeply rooted devotion to his liege. But even such devotion, as powerful as both you and I know it to be, could only inspire so much toleration for those who got on Hubert’s nerves. Fortunately for Ferdinand von Aegir, that toleration was just enough to allow him the privilege of keeping his tongue intact. Hubert could not help but smile as he imagined a future in which not only would Fodlan be free from the oppression of the Church and nobility, but one where his ears would be free from the oppression of this particular noble.

Eventually, it seemed that Ferdinand had said all that he could to the wooden door and had left Hubert in peace. He took a sip of coffee to celebrate, though the festivities were short-lived, as the drink had gone as cold as its owner’s reputation. While he was ordinarily not one to use magic for such frivolous tasks, he couldn’t deny that this problem had an obvious solution. Holding his mug away from his chest in one hand, he brought his free hand underneath it and carefully produced a small crimson flame. He was not incapable of producing a larger flame- he simply had no intention of overheating this coffee that he had, for whatever reason, had to work so hard for this morning. With the Fire spell extinguished, he was (finally) able to take that first divine sip- pipping hot with just a hint of sweetness.

That sweetness was accompanied by more than just a hint of smoke, however. Even a fire fueled by magic cannot burn without smoke, and Hubert had no intention of subjecting his lungs to any more than necessary. While some students took great joy in filling their room with a different type of smoke, Hubert had no desire to attract more attention from Church authorities. Placing his coffee on his desk- a marriage proposal from a minor alliance noble made for a lovely coaster- Hubert threw open the windows to his dorm. Within a few moments, the faint smell of smoke was replaced by the light scent of morning dew. The gentle creak of the wooden floor was drowned out by the chatter of students below off to their morning classes.

Hubert took another sip of his coffee, casually examining the students as they milled about. Some, like his housemate Caspar talked loudly to anyone who would listen, seemingly ready to burst with energy. Others, like the white-haired Alliance mage he watched now, moved through the crowds undisturbed, as if none of their peers mattered at all. Hubert unquestionably fell into this latter category when walking the Monastery grounds, yet he was not at all opposed to a bit of people watching when the opportunity presented itself. After all, while they were carefree now, any one of these students could make for future allies… or enemies. And while many were quite remarkable in their unremarkableness, there were a few in each house that were worthy of attention. He could see two such students now, sitting on a bench across the courtyard, breakfast trays in their laps. He opened his desk drawer and retrieved a small black journal. His fellow students may well have considered him creepy if they were to discover his observations, but that mattered not. What mattered most was collecting any information that may prove useful to Lady Edelgard. The ever-vigilant vassal flipped through pages of copious notes, detailing anything and anyone of interest here at Garreg Mach Monastery. Faculty, rituals, schedules, his fellow Black Eagles, ah yes, there they were, a pair of Kingdom mages with back to back profiles.

The first had copious notes to her name- Mercedes von Martritz. She was a student of incredible skill, potentially the most promising healer at the Officer’s Academy. While Hubert did not fully understand her background, or why she was attending as a commoner, he was certain that it involved the trademark messiness of the nobility, given her origin within the Empire. She seemed the perfect candidate to recruit to Lady Edelgard’s cause- powerful and personally victimized by the nobility that had plagued Fodlan for a millennia. And yet…

He passively watched as she giggled at her companion’s movements, likely enjoying some humorous story. Eventually, Mercedes quieted her friend down and, with her at the lead, they said their prayers over their food. Hubert frowned. There was the issue with Mercedes, she was all together too tied up by the Church. Aside from the overly meek Alliance healer, there may have been no student more devoted than Mercedes, and therefore no student more out of his and Lady Edelgard’s reach. The Church had likely preyed upon her at her weakest point, even though their rule was likely the direct cause of whatever tragedy befell her. Hubert almost pitied her. It was a shame, she could contribute so much to the liberation of Fodlan, if only she could realize the bondage that she had put herself under.

His eyes moved from one mage to the next and narrowed slightly. He flipped to the next page. Ah yes, Annette Fantine Dominic. In comparison to her friend, Annette’s entry was sparse, taking up hardly two lines; Annette was a mage that specialized in dark magic, and was friends with Mercedes. Hubert closed his notebook with a sharp snap. As lacking as his formal intel may be, he could recall a few choice facts about the diminutive noble. The first was that she seemed attached to Mercedes at the hip. The two were rarely seen apart- an invitation to one was essentially an invitation to both. Why they shared such a bond was a mystery to Hubert, one that he did not especially care to investigate, but regardless, it was clear that they were inseparable. If they ever were to recruit Mercedes, it felt probable that Annette would tag along with her. The second was that she seemed incredibly friendly- but did not seem to have an ulterior selfish motive like a certain Alliance vassal. Hubert nearly chuckled as he recalled the first day of magic instruction, and Annette’s feeble attempts to befriend Lysithea. The poor thing didn’t know what she had been getting herself into. At the very least, Annette’s determination was to be admired. Even after such a thorough rejection, she still approached almost everyone in the class at one point or another.

 _Almost_ , everyone.

Hubert could not blame the girl for not approaching him, nor did he particularly wish that she would. He was well aware of the reputation he had developed amongst his classmates, and he had no intention of taking the time to dispel any rumors that did not directly affect Lady Edelgard. There was no reason for him and Annette to speak, and so Hubert was relieved that they did not. Still, he could not help but notice the occasional glances she cast his way. The poor girl seemed easily distracted. Perhaps she felt some sort of pity for him, or guilt that she had not reached out to him? It truly did seem that she would befriend- or at the very least _try_ to befriend- anyone if given the opportunity.

_Yes, perhaps… perhaps that might just work._

Ever the strategist, Hubert’s mind raced. Annette was not overly fearful of him… Annette was close as one could be to Mercedes. While her friend might be firmly out of his reach, Annette was a much more achievable aim. And while sociability had never been a strength of Hubert’s, intrigue certainly was. Perhaps, if he could grow close to Annette, if he could convince her of their righteous cause… perhaps she could do the heavy lifting when it came to Mercedes. And even if she couldn’t, Annette herself more than a fine consolation prize as a soldier.

Just as he was beginning to smile to himself, lost in thought, he was interrupted by a yelp from outside. Looking down at the courtyard again, he bit his tongue, as he saw Annette starring up at him, hands over an increasingly reddening face. Surely the yell had come from her, as her tray had fallen to the ground. She must have sprung up suddenly. It seemed that he had been spotted. Had his fixation on the pair been too obvious? Would his targets be put-off by him before his plan even got underway? It seemed not, as although Mercedes was pointing toward him. Mercedes must have pointed him out to her friend, leading to all this. She was laughing, only a little cruelly, at Annette’s reaction. As her laughed subsided, the platinum haired mage, realizing that eye contact was being made across the distance, smoothly changed her point into a wave. Not knowing what else to do, but thankful that things hadn’t developed any worse, offered an awkward wave back. This was met with a sheepish hand raise from Annette, whose face was growing red enough to match her hair. The moment her hand was lowered, Annette grabbed what was left of her breakfast with one hand, her friend’s hand with the other, and began to drag her away- quite the challenge as it seemed Mercedes had grown very comfortable in her seat. She eventually relented and gave Hubert one last wave as Annette dragged her to… well, in Annette’s mind, literally anywhere else. Mercedes had forgotten her breakfast on the bench.

As soon as he could, Hubert closed his window firmly, and let out a heavy sigh of relief. That certainly could have gone worse, but Hubert chided himself nonetheless. He could not afford to be found out so easily like that in the future. Still, what a strange reaction from Annette. Hubert couldn’t explain why, but it made him smile slightly. Perhaps it was simply nice to be acknowledged occasionally, rather than avoided. He allowed himself to enjoy the feeling, if only for a moment, before sitting back down at his desk. There was no time for resting pleasant feelings, he had work to do. He pulled a spare piece of parchment in front of him and dipped his quill into its inkwell. Strategy, of any type, had always been one of Hubert’s finest strengths. His quill danced across the page to keep up with his mind. He may have to call in a favor or two, but this would be delightfully easy.

For the first time since arriving at Garreg Mach, Hubert von Vestra was going to try and make a friend. He wrote out plans with a quiet confidence. He was certain that becoming closer to Annette would be easy, no trouble at all.

He had no idea both how right and how wrong he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank for tuning back in here. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've written since my FFN days, so thank you to everyone who expressed interest (both here and privately). I've got the next few chapters outlined, so I'm plenty excited for this journey. I'll do my best to post updates weekly. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated.


	3. Collision Course

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hubert asks Hanneman for a favor. He gets it, and a whole lot more than he bargained for as well. 
> 
> This chapter took a bit longer to write, but is also longer than the last two. Hope that evens things out for you.

The Sorcery class made its way to the training grounds, as they did every few class meetings. While the weather would soon be growing cooler, for now, the sun beat down with plenty of mid-year warmth, birds danced and sang together without a care in the world, and all the mages of the Officer’s Academy walked and chatted amongst themselves almost as lackadaisically. All the mages- save for two walking in the rear of the group.

Our poor, dear Annette was panicking. She could hardly bring herself to look at her newly assigned partner, the imposing Adrestian vassal who had captured so much of her headspace in recent weeks. What was left unoccupied of her mind reeled.

_How is this happening?_

It was a fair question. Since the start of term, Professor Hanneman had always allowed students to choose their own partners. Of course, Annette had always grabbed Mercedes as soon as she could- the thought of being the only student left without a partner terrified her. Hubert would almost always make his way over to Lysithea, and the pair would practice their unique Black Magic with nary an unnecessary word shared between them. Dorothea would have to shake Linhardt awake, and Marianne would sulk at her desk until invited along by one of her more outgoing classmates, quite often Mercedes and Annette themselves.

That was on a normal day- but today, Professor Hanneman announced that he had decided to assign partners for today. Mercedes, Linhardt, and Marianne… okay that made sense, they were all skilled White Magic users. And honestly, those two probably needed Mercedes more than Annette did. Naturally, Annette assumed that Lysithea and Hubert would be paired together- it only made sense. That would leave her with Dorothea, certainly not the worst option, she just hoped the songstress wouldn’t try to pry for any details about the more embarrassing side of her personal life. Therefore, Annette was thoroughly surprised when Dorothea was assigned Lysithea as a partner. Annette could only hope Lysithea was in a more friendly mood today than… well than she usually was. An exasperated sigh from the Alliance mage behind her was, to put it mildly, not a good sign.

And then, the last pairing. Hanneman had flashed a knowing smile of sorts as he announced- Hubert and Annette. Her heart stopped for just a moment. While she should have seen this coming as soon as the previous pair was assigned- they were the only two students left after all- the inevitable still took her by surprise. It was that smile of Hanneman’s that terrified Annette more than anything. Had she been found out? Was the whole class aware of her little infatuation? Was her Professor trying to _set her up_? What did Hubert think of this arrangement? There were simply too many questions for Annette to handle.

Little did she know, Hubert had all the answers.

* * *

“Professor Hanneman, do you have a moment? There is something I would like to discuss with you.”

The words felt nearly as strange falling on Hanneman’s ears as they did leaving from Hubert’s mouth. It was a first for both men- the first time Hanneman had been approached by Hubert, and the first time Hubert had sought out not only Hanneman, but any of his instructors. Still, unusual as his request may have been, Hanneman had no reason to turn the young man away. Hubert- despite his acerbic demeanor- was still his student, and Lord Vestra had been a good friend to Hanneman during his days in the Empire, even if those days had long since passed.

“Ah yes, Hubert, my boy, come in.” Hanneman gestured from his chair to another on the other side of his desk, “Please, take a seat. To what do I owe the… pleasure of this visit?”

Hanneman could not help but be slightly weary of this particular student. He carried the same quiet demeanor that House Vestra had developed a reputation for over a millennium of service to House Hresvelg, but there was something off about the boy, something dark brewing just beneath the surface. Hubert moved stiffly to the seat he was offered. The young vassal was utterly unreadable. Hanneman poured himself a cup of tea to distract himself from his worries. The gentle scent of the Bergamot blend filled the air, cutting somewhat through the tension that grown since Hubert made his presence known.

The young man cleared his throat. “I have… a favor I would like to ask of you, Professor Hanneman.” Hubert wanted nothing more than to make this conversation as efficient as possible. He had other far more important matters to attend to. Still, he feared that Hanneman’s love of his own voice would make that a challenge. 

That fear turned out to be well founded. Of course, Hanneman would describe it not as bloviating, but as simply trying to bond with his student.

“Ah, well, of course. You are free to ask for anything, though I’m afraid I may not be of much use to you in some respects.” He cleared his throat before rambling on, “You know, your father and I were good friends back in my Imperial days.” A wry smile broke across his withered face, “Of course, that was many years ago now. Tell me, how is the Marquis? It has been quite some time since we wrote.” In reality, Hanneman was stalling, measuring out just the right amount of sugar to add to his tea as he spoke. He was racking his mind for some insight into what Hubert could be looking for. His grades were excellent, and his housemates Dorothea and Linhardt were doing… fine academically, more or less. Hanneman doubted Hubert would come to advocate for them even if they were failing his class anyway. He hardly ever taught the Imperial Princess herself, so even though Hubert’s devotion to her was well known, he doubted this concerned her.

His question was met with a scoff by Hubert, who crossed his arms in his seat. “I have not heard anything from House Vestra, so I have no reason to believe he is not in good health.” His answer was cold and calculated, one he had clearly given a number of times before when asked about his father.

Hubert’s distaste for the nobility, despite his status, was no secret at Garreg Mach. Hanneman could, of course, empathize, having left his inheritance behind long ago. Still, he could not help but chide his student, “Now Hubert, I know that you may not be particularly close, but he is still your father. Surely that alone is cause for some deference?” Hanneman would have to remember to add Hubert’s name to the growing list of students on bad terms with their fathers.

“I have no desire to speak of this anymore,” Hubert said sharply. Once the cold fire in his eyes had died down, he continued, “As I said, I have a favor to ask of you, may I do so now?” Hanneman only nodded in response. Much like Hubert, the professor suddenly wanted to end this conversation as efficiently as possible. Hubert shifted in his seat uncomfortably. What was it about making this request that made him feel so uneasy? No matter, he had endured far worse for the sake of Lady Edelgard’s vision.

“I would like you to make me partners with Annette for our next training session.”

Hanneman’s eyebrows shot up and he almost dropped his teacup. He had prepared himself for Hubert to ask him for all sorts of devious deeds or immoral indulgences… but nothing like this. The old man put down his cup as he collected himself. This would certainly make for the most delectable piece of gossip for the faculty lounge. He put his elbows on the desk, and rested his chin on his interwoven fingers, studying Hubert’s demeanor. The student was clearly uncomfortable...perhaps he really was interested in her? He couldn’t think of any other reason the young man would ask for this. Hanneman decided to test his hypothesis.

“Well, well, my dear Hubert,” He began with a grin. Hubert bristled like an anger cat in response, but his professor continued on. “I must say I’m surprised. I’m all for supporting young love, but I-”

“It is nothing of the sort.” Hanneman was cut off by Hubert before he could get the rest out. That deadly rage was boiling up in the young mage’s expression again. This was exactly the tiresome route Hubert had feared the old fool would lead their conversation down. It seemed like half this damn academy was more concerned with romance than education- and that went for the faculty as well. If the last thing that Hubert was needed right now was some sort of romantic entanglement, then the second to last thing would be unfounded rumors of such a romance. “My motivation for this request is of no concern to you,” he said dryly once his annoyance had died down slightly, “It is… important to me. Is that a sufficient reason?”

This was more or less the reaction Hanneman had expected. Had this been anyone else, he could have taken it as tacit confirmation of a crush. But this was _Hubert_ after all, and if anyone were to have an alternative motive, it was him. For Annette’s sake, Hanneman almost hoped Hubert had something else in mind. If not… he shuddered to think of it. _What did that poor, sweet girl do to deserve becoming the object of his affections?_ He knew that occasionally opposites attracted… but this was as of a vampire was attracted to the Sun itself…

Still, Hanneman saw he had an opportunity to push Hubert here, and in the process perhaps see just how invested he was in whatever he was scheming. “Well, Hubert,” he began cautiously, “I suppose I could make such an arrangement for you and Miss Annette.” A smile lifted up his moustache slightly, “However, you will have do something for me as well. Is that acceptable?”

Hubert only nodded in response. He had been expecting such a condition. No matter, whatever he requested couldn’t possibly be more unbearable than this conversation. He could dust the old man’s bookshelves or organize papers for him, or whatever other frivolous task the old blowhard was too lazy to do this week.

And that was exactly what Hanneman had been planning to do, at least at first. But Hubert had left him an opening, an opportunity to push the boy even further, to truly see how serious he was about this. After all, Hubert seemed ready to ascent to whatever Hanneman would ask of him.

“I would like you to write a letter to your father, Hubert.”

A heavy silence filled the air between them.

Just as Hubert began to open his mouth to object, Hanneman cut him off. “Despite the… tenuous relationship you seem to have with your father, you are still privileged enough to _have_ a relationship with him.” His expression fell, and his eyes softened ever so slightly. “That’s not something all of your peers can say, Hubert.”

Hubert slowly clenched his fist. The quiet rage he had been suppressing this whole conversation was threatening to boil over. _This old fool… who does he think he is?_ The professor seemed to know just how to torment his student. Still, if he could put his plan into action… this was a small price to pay.

“Fine.”

* * *

Hubert had figured that his conversation with Hanneman would be the hardest part of this whole process. He had figured that Annette would happily take up the burden of conversation, and that the rest of this would be smooth sailing. He figured that her well known bubbliness would be more than enough, at least for today.

Somewhere along the way, he had figured wrong.

The two of them had not exchanged so much as a word since they began walking together, and they were nearly halfway to the training grounds. Annette was looking down and fidgeting. Occasionally she would suck in a breath as though she were about to say something, but the words never came. Hubert feared that perhaps his intimidating reputation had indeed managed to scare Annette from afar. Hubert’s original plan was sounding more and more ridiculous to him. He had rarely been able to make friends on the few occasions he genuinely wanted to- why would it be any different now? Still, there was no point in going to all the trouble have them set up as partners if they weren’t even going to talk to each other. What to do though? He couldn’t introduce himself; they had been classmates for multiple moons now. What did they have to talk about? No wonder Annette hadn’t tried to start a dialogue, it was supremely difficult. Conversation may never have been a strong suit of his, but he simply had to break this uncomfortable silence.

“So, Annette,” he cleared his throat, which it seemed hadn’t been ready for its owner to strike up conversation, “What type of magic do you practice again?” It wasn’t particularly graceful, but it was at least a relevant topic- they were in Sorcery class after all.

At the sound of her name, Annette jumped slightly. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she had nearly missed his question. Looking up at her companion made her swallow hard. _He’s just so tall_. Of course, she had lived her life surrounded by tall people, or at the very least, people taller than her. She even pulled weeds with Dedue recently without feeling _too_ intimidated, and she knew that he was taller than Hubert! Still, something about having to look up at him, with the sun just barely obscured by his head, and his ever-ridiculous hair blowing in the mid-afternoon breeze… something about it made her feel so… small. Annette squinted as sunlight peaked out from behind him for a moment. She couldn’t just not answer, after being asked such a direct question. “I mostly use Black Magic,” she responded with as much confidence as she could muster. She had no reason not to be confident- she had always worked hard to excel at Sorcery. That confidence began to fade away, however, when she recalled why they were walking to go the training grounds, and the magic that Hubert was proficient in. She looked back down at the ground again, “So… I’m afraid I won’t be as helpful with your Dark Magic as Lysithea usually is.”

Hubert, of course, already knew the answer to the question he had asked; in the same way he knew about the strengths and weaknesses of nearly all his peers here at Garreg Mach. What he did not know was why the usually energetic Annette was being so terribly timid today. Hubert had never been particularly gifted at encouragement, but it seemed if the conversation were to progress at all, he would have to at least attempt to give some.

“Perhaps not,” he began slowly. She was not _wrong_ per say, so he would have to deflect to another subject. “But I have picked up some Black Magic due to my assigned class, so I’m certain you will make for a suitable partner.”

Annette bit her tongue to stop herself from exclaiming. Her mind rushed with a thousand thoughts while blood rushed to her cheeks, causing a light flush. She dared not lift her head lest she expose herself.

_P-p-partner? Did he really just say that? Obviously, he doesn’t mean… Oh sweet Goddess wait he’s still talking._

Hubert was, perhaps unsurprisingly, utterly unaware of Annette’s reaction. Instead, he continued on, hoping he could do something to lift her spirits, despite his inexperience with affirmation. “And besides, I believe you help Mercedes with her magic. Certainly, I can learn something from you as well. Faith and Reason Magic are vastly more different than Black and Dark Magic after all.”

Annette could only nod in response. Her lips trembled as she did her best to stifle tears of frustration before they formed. Could she not even talk to him? He must think she was incredibly rude, not responding to such basic politeness. She swallowed hard. _No, you can’t let this stupid crush control you Annette_. She forced a smile. _You’ve faced enemies in battle, you’ve faced hardship before, you can do this._ With her hands balled up into (quite frankly, adorable) little fists, she nodded and replied as cheerily as she could, “Y-yes, Mercie and I have worked together since our time at the Royal School of Sorcery in Fhirdiad.”

Likewise, Hubert nodded, stretching out his arms lightly as the training grounds came into sight. It took the majority of the walk, but it seemed they may finally have stumbled and tripped their way into something resembling a conversation. “I see,” he said, the relief creeping into his tone, making him sound more cheerful than he was used to, “Tell me, how long have you been friends with uh… Mercie?” The name felt strange, as if he hadn’t quite earned its usage yet.

But Annette brushed this aside. She had collected herself and was able to look up and smile cheerfully at her classmate for the first time this afternoon. It helped that she was being asked about Mercedes- there were few topics she was better versed in after all! Indeed, talking about quite literally anything other than herself seemed to do the trick.

“Oh yes, well, Mercie and I enrolled at the same time, and even though she’s a few years older than me she…”

And so, the last tenth of the walk went exactly how Hubert had expected the previous nine tenths to go, with Annette happily recounting the story of her and Mercedes’s unlikely friendship, and Hubert more than content to listen and nod along. Hubert found the story endearing to be certain, but not overly interesting.

Upon finally arriving at the training grounds, Annette and Hubert were assigned to target practice first. A half dozen wooden dummies had been placed in a half circle facing the mages, with the space behind them marked off to keep students and servants from wandering into the line of fire. To their left, Mercedes, Linhardt, and Marianne had begun to practice their healing magic on some lightly injured guards, likely wounded either in mock battle or in some short-lived skirmish in town. Behind them, Annette and Hubert could hear some commotion. It seemed Lysithea and Dorothea had been assigned to duel. Hubert was relieved the healers were nearby, as he pitied his classmate for having to face Lysithea while she was cross.

Putting that out of mind, Hubert offered to let Annette have first take at the targets. As much as he despised Fodlan’s noble culture, he was still as well conditioned to be chivalrous as any noble could be. Annette nodded and stepped forward. She had an opportunity to impress him now. Try as she might, she couldn’t help but flip constantly from feeling a quiet confidence to tingling with nervousness. She told herself had nothing to fear, there was no way she could reveal her feelings while simply casting spells after all. But she couldn’t ignore feeling like she simply had to impress him here. Maybe she could do so well he’d _have_ to ask her for some sort of tutoring. Maybe then they could spend time together, get to know each other. Maybe then she could…

_Come on Annette! You’re here to practice! Do it for yourself, not for him!_

She took a deep breath… focusing all her attention on what she was about to do. She had to be sure not to be distracted by- _Oh, Hubert just crossed his arms._ Was he evaluating her? Had he seen something he didn’t like? Annette’s knees began to shake, but she pushed on. She’d use Cutting Gale, an advanced level wind spell she’d only recently been instructed in. No sense in practicing if she wasn’t going to push herself, after all. With a flick of the wrist she let loose the first incantation- a powerful burst of magical launching from her fingertips and slicing the first dummy in two. She gritted her teeth, moving to face the next target. This one likewise fell apart as the magic cut into it, but something was off. Her attack had nearly missed, catching the dummy only on its outer most edge. Annette began to shake with dangerous combination of nerves and frustration. Perfectionism had begun to rear its ugly head yet again in the young girl’s mind. She could do this; she _knew_ she could do this… so what was going wrong? Her next attack was even more off target, causing the dummy to tumble over only because it blew down the supports that had been holding it up. Her eyes began to cloud ever so slightly, which only frustrated her further.

_You’re better than this Annie, what are you doing? Can’t you even-_

A soft, low voice cut through her self-admonishment. “Annette, if you don’t mind, could I correct something I see in your stance?”

She turned to find Hubert next to her, hand outstretched as he asked… to help her? It was quite the opposite of how Annette had been hoping this would go. Yet, if she was being true to herself, she wasn’t overly disappointed. Hubert had taken some degree of interest in her even without impressing him. Maybe he wasn’t quite as cold as rumors had made him out to be. “I uh…” she cleared her throat, doing her best to cover the fact she had been on the verge of tears, “Yes, I’d appreciate that Hubert.” The stances for the basic and advanced forms of elemental magic were all remarkably simply, in addition to being incredibly similar. Annette expected, therefore, that Hubert would talk her through how to hold herself, just as so many of her teachers had done before. Maybe he’d even take up the position alongside her.

What she definitely did not expect was for the young man to casually move behind her, and gently move her arms into position. Ever efficient and to the point, Hubert taught her just as he taught younger Adrestian mages- hands on. Annette’s vision began to spin. She tried to say something to object, to say she didn’t need this sort of help- but she either couldn’t find the words or (and this possibility embarrassed her even more) perhaps she didn’t want to. His reach was long enough that there was nothing scandalous about the situation, but still she could barely handle it. His hands were so large, easily holding her forearms in position… and yet his movements were refined, gentle even. They had hardly even gotten to know each other, but here he was touching her so casually.

It was all too much for her. She had entirely lost focus now, and with every passing moment she felt more and more control slipping away. This was bad. Her face was flushing, and she began babbling nonsense, trying desperately to get him to move away before something bad happened. As it was now, she could very well say or do something dangerous. In the brief moment before it happened, she knew it would be the latter. She felt a surge of energy pouring into her hands. She tried to maintain control over it, but she had lost that battle before it had even begun.

A burst of powerful, uncontrolled wind came forth from the young mage.

The reader may well be aware that, in our world, it is said that every action has its equal and opposite reaction. And while the people of Fodlan were a great many years from summarizing that law of motion so succinctly, it nonetheless ruled over them just as powerfully as it rules over you and me. Indeed, without the proper stance, such a powerful burst of energy is bound to push its creator backwards with equal power.

As you may well have suspected, Annette certainly did not have the proper stance.

Hubert saw disaster incoming but was helpless to prevent it. He braced himself as best he could to take the blow that was about to come. It was too little preparation, and far too late. Annette had been lifted clean off the ground by her own spell and launched into her classmate. The last thing Hubert saw was a blur of ginger hair rocketing towards him. His vision burned red as she slammed into his chest. There was no pain though, not yet. For the moment, all he could feel through the adrenaline were his feet leaving the cobblestone floor. Acting on instinct alone, Hubert did his best to catch her, wrapping his arms around her so as to shield her from the inevitable collision with the wall behind them.

The next time he opened his eyes, he was staring at the ceiling of Garreg Mach Monastery’s Infirmary, the first streaks of morning sunlight peeking through the windows.


	4. Of Healing and Hugging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the incident at the training grounds, Hubert and Annette both attempt to recover, unwittingly preparing for a reunion.
> 
> Manuela gives Hubert some interesting insight.
> 
> Mercedes tries to support her bestfriend as best she can.

He stared at the ceiling of the infirmary for what felt like an eternity. It had been painted a dark blue, with the molding around it covered in a fading golden paint. Hubert had never had any reason to look at it before; now he couldn’t look away. Not because it was particularly interesting, but because his neck was too stiff to move. Sunlight poured in from the windows on the right, and given how it slowly moved across the ceiling, Hubert surmised it was morning. His view did not change for some time. He noticed that the paint had begun cracking with age. He noticed the spot where the painters had accidentally let the gold paint leak off of the molding. He noticed the cobwebs slowly building up in the far-right corner of the room. He noticed-

He noticed an altogether too large pair of breasts suddenly move into his view, barely contained by a dark green dress. Hubert tried to turn away from this unwelcome obstruction but groaned as he found he still did not have the strength to do so. He settled on shutting his eyes, hoping to avoid seeing anything more than what had already been burned into his mind.

A light, almost musical laugh broke out from above him. “My my, Hubert,” came the all too familiar voice of Garreg Mach’s resident physician and strumpet, Manuela Casagranda, “It looks like your recovery is nearly complete- or that is it that my mere presence has roused you from your sleep?”

Hubert groaned. “The former, I assure you, Professor Manuela.” As if being injured wasn’t bad enough, he had to endure whatever Manuela would put him through, with no way to escape. Perhaps this place was more of a prison than it was an infirmary. All he could hope for now was an escape- and soon. “How long have I been unconscious?” He noticed now how dry throat was, which made his voice coarser than usual.

“Well, I suppose it has been just over 24 hours.” Hubert could hear the retired songstress muttering to herself while searching for a waterskin through what he could only assume was the mess that constantly filled her office. When at last she found it, Hubert had no choice but to gladly accept whatever water she would give him. Though his eyes were still closed for fear of seeing anything indecent, he could hear the mischievous smile in Manuela’s voice as she spoke, “Oh you should have seen that poor girl here with you, Hubert. Annette was crying on and on about how the whole affair was her fault, and how she should stay with you.” Hubert couldn’t even begin to imagine- mostly because he was focused on gulping down as much water as he could. “You know, it took all Edelgard and I had to pry her away from your bedside. It seems you’ve got a devoted little girlfriend on your hands, Hubert.”

Manuela had hardly finished her sentence when some life shot back into Hubert temporarily- just enough for him to spit out the water he had been so desperately swallowing. His eyes opened again, aflame with indignation. He nearly sat up to protest, before collapsing back down onto the bed. “Professor Manuela,” he said weakly while catching his breath, “Once again, I must assure you that you are mistaken.” While he couldn’t deny the idea of Annette adamantly refusing to leave his bedside was rather sweet, that shouldn’t imply that their relationship was anything more than mere classmates. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Professor Manuela was just as fixated on her student’s romantic endeavors as Professor Hanneman. Still, he was glad to know that both Annette and Lady Edelgard had come to visit him in this damn infirmary.

The physician, it seemed, was less than glad to be spat upon while caring for a patient, but the topic of conversation provided plenty distraction from such things. Within a moment, her scowl had been replaced by the return of her mischievous grin, “Oh of course, Hubert,” she said in a lilting, teasing voice, dropping a wink along with her words, “Of course that’s what you _say._ What you _do_ in your private life is none of my business.” After putting down the waterskin, she stretched her arms up over her head and leaned back- a sight Hubert was sure to avoid. “Now then, one last healing spell and you’ll be good to leave.”

A soft green light emanated from Manuela’s hands, which hovered just above Hubert’s chest. As she moved them slowly above the young man’s body, he felt the soreness in his spine and ribs gradually dissipate. Manuela was an experienced healer, which was a great blessing to the vast majority of her patients. However, for Hubert, it was more of a curse- because it meant she could heal and talk at the same time. And talk she did, about the latest gossip he had missed while unconscious (not that he would have caught it had he been awake), and about the latest tragic affair she had been caught up in (something or other about a knight who had run away after seeing her room- Hubert wasn’t listening too closely). As she neared the end of the treatment, she of course made sure to chide Hubert, “Now, be sure to go find Annette and let her know you’re alright.”

Hubert nodded. In all honesty, he was simply relieved to be able to leave the damn bed he had been confined to. “I suppose I shall if I run into her.”

The green glow suddenly vanished from Manuela’s hands. “No,” he said in a cold tone, her face growing very stern.

“Excuse me?”

“No. No, Hubert, I simply cannot accept that answer.” Manuela’s voice was growing louder, angrier. She began shaking with a building frustration. “Do you have any _idea_ how precious that girl is?” Hubert considered this to be quite an unusual question to ask, but his Professor didn’t seem interested in giving him a chance to answer. She continued on, “Do you have any _idea_ how many people would die to be cared for like that? Do you have _any idea at all_ what I’ve been through-!”

Her tirade was interrupted by a sharp pain in Hubert’s lower back, followed quickly by a ringing sensation in his ears.

There’s a funny quirk to healing magic that my dear reader may not be aware of. This, of course, is not the reader’s fault in the slightest. After all, if you spend your days playing video games instead of rushing into battle sword in hand, then you’ve probably never been treated with a faith-based spell. The odd thing about healing magic… is that there is no way to use only half of a spell. Once the incantation is begun, it must be finished, or its effects will quickly begin to fade. As such, the within moments of Manuela ending her spell and starting to rant about the unfairness of love, the pain her treatment had been relieving suddenly rushed back into Hubert. Stars began to dance across what had been a painfully dull ceiling until now. While Edelgard’s vassal was willing to endure a great deal of pain for a good cause- he was less inclined to do so for no reason other than to allow Manuela to fume about men. He had to shut her up.

“Fine, yes, I’ll see her- just hurry up and finish your damn spell!”

Manuela, startled back to reality by this outburst, smiled down at the young man, who was biting his tongue to avoid saying anything more. “Well, Hubert, I’m relieved to see you’ve had a change of heart.” She took a moment to fix her hair- a moment that felt like an eternity to the poor mage in her care- and began the treatment once again.

* * *

Mercedes and Annette ate breakfast together nearly every morning. Somedays they would take their meals outside, other days they simply settled into a table in the Dining Hall. Today was one of those other days. And while eating the Dining Hall wasn’t unusual, their additional tablemates were, as they took the forms of giant stacks of books and scrolls. It seemed that Annette had brought all her school down with her this morning- to the extent that Mercedes could hardly see her friend through the forest she had constructed.

For her part, Annette flipped through the pages of her books feverously, scribbling down notes on anything that she could- anything that could keep her mind occupied. She had been like this since Manuela and Edelgard had dragged her away from Hubert’s bedside. She simply couldn’t let her mind rest or wander. In the brief moments she stopped, a million unwelcome thoughts flooded her head.

_What if he can’t walk again?_

_What if he has to drop out of the Officer’s Academy?_

_What if he hates me?_

She had tried, unsuccessfully, to get some sleep the night prior. She tossed and turned in bed before eventually giving up and settling back into her desk chair textbook in hand. Studying had always brought her peace before. When she studied, she felt like she had some control, like she was accomplishing something worthwhile. Even still, as she worked alongside an ever-shrinking candle, she couldn’t help but remember what had happened that morning. The few bruises and scrapes she had sustained were painful reminders… bringing on more painful thoughts.

_He was trying to help me._

_He protected me as best he could._

_It should have been me in that bed…_

The cycle of negative thoughts continued long into the night and into the next morning. Annette couldn’t tell if her eyes were tired due to straining in the candlelight, or from a lack of sleep, or from the large tears that had fallen on nearly every page of her notes. The answer, as it so often seems to be, was all of the above.

This was the state Mercedes found her best friend in. She had grown quite hungry, waiting for Annette at their usual meeting place, and knew she had to take matters into her own hands. But not even a gentle hug or the promise of sweet buns for breakfast was enough to cheer Annette up for long. Eventually, whether by insistent prodding or by the temptation of sweets she did not know, Mercedes finally convinced Annette to get some breakfast- even if she had to compromise and allow Annette to bring her books down. Any other day, the sight of Annette carrying a stack of books nearly as tall as herself would have made Mercedes giggle. Today, it made her pray all the more fervently for her friend’s wellbeing.

And so, Annette ate what breakfast Mercedes forced her to in much the same way she had spent the previous night- behind a fortress of learning built to defend against unwelcome feelings. But Fodlan’s Locket this stronghold was not- and one thought, the thought she dreaded the most, had managed to infiltrate her mind despite her best efforts.

_This is your fault_.

Her vision began to cloud once again with tears. She kept her head down, below the level of her books, and balled her fists up tightly. Maybe if she stayed low, stayed small, Mercie wouldn’t notice? It was a ridiculous thought- Mercedes was already reaching out a hand towards her.

_This is all your fault._

It didn’t matter if it was an accident. It didn’t matter if she hadn’t meant to. She had hurt him, bad. And why? Because she had lost focus? Because she couldn’t control herself? Because she couldn’t handle some useless feelings?

She felt lost. She felt helpless. She felt completely and utterly pathetic. She felt a wave of darkness and despair crashing over her, drowning her. She felt-

She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder.

It was Mercedes. She was smiling. Her face radiated a gentle tenderness that Annette was certain the Goddess herself could not match. Annette found herself lost in that familiar presence for a moment, lost in the care of a friend who had supported her through so much. Mercedes’s smile changed as she spoke, but never quite disappeared.

“Annette, look. Behind you.”

Annette turned around to look behind her. What she saw made her spring to her feet just as her jaw dropped. She nearly tripped getting out from the bench she had been sitting on. Recovering her balance, she ran towards the southern Dining Hall door. She could hardly bring herself to run fast enough, for standing just inside the doorway was…

“H-Hubert!” Annette let out with a cry- a cry mixed with equal parts joy, relief, and tears. She had been so worried, so worried that she had done something equally unforgivable and unfixable. And yet, despite her worries, despite her tears, he was standing here, hardly a scrape on him. Thinking nothing of appearances- hell, thinking nothing of anything but the man in front of her- she flung her arms around him and cried, burying her face into his freshly pressed uniform.

Hubert’s hands had shot up the moment he saw the ginger mage sprinting towards him. It was an instinctual reaction. After all, the last time she had approached him at a speed like this, he had ended up unconscious for an entire day. But instead of having his back slammed into a wall, he now found himself with a young woman’s wet face pressed into his chest. Annette was… hugging him? And… crying? Well, she was definitely doing the latter, that much was clear. Even so, it had been a great many years since he had been embraced like this- since someone had so tightly clung to him. Despite the circumstances and the tears, it felt…nice.

What did not feel as nice was the staring of the others in the Dining Hall. Mercedes had begun to giggle- a reaction Hubert wasn’t quite sure how to interpret. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Dorothea raise an eyebrow curiously- a reaction Hubert was sure meant trouble. He was certain that whatever he did next, he would be judged by anyone within sight. But he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing as this girl sobbed against his uniform. To hell with it all…

Slowly, perhaps even robotically, (though that’s certainly not a word Hubert would be able to use to describe himself) Hubert wrapped his arms around Annette’s slight, quivering frame. Although he had to reach down slightly, his arms easily wrapped around the crying mage’s shoulders. He didn’t need to apply any pressure- Annette had already tightly wrapped her arms around him after all.

For one moment, one perfectly precious moment, time seemed to stop. Their classmates’ glares and whispers faded away, replaced only by a gentle warmth- one that comes with an unrestrained embrace. The moment Hubert’s hands rested on her; Annette’s cries caught in her throat. This, though she would never admit it to herself, had been what she had feared losing the most- the chance to be held just like this. But by the end of that moment- that perfectly pure moment- the gentle warmth had turned into a heat that was far too much for young Annette.

She quickly let go of the man she had clung to so tightly and staggered backwards. Her face burned with embarrassment. She bowed quickly, both to apologize and to cover her tear stained face. “I-I’m sorry Hubert! I’m so sorry!”

Hubert blinked once, then twice. She was…sorry? There were too many thoughts running through the young man’s mind for him to really comprehend any of them- much less understand what she was trying to say. She had hugged him… so tightly… now she was apologizing. Hubert looked down at the strange girl. Her ears had turned a red bright enough to camouflage themselves in her hair. She was clearly embarrassed. Looking down at himself, Hubert found that his uniform, which moments before had been clean, was now soaked through with tears.

“Please, um… don’t worry about such things,” he said in as comforting a voice as he could manage. He was not accustomed to speaking to crying women, much less reassuring them. “It’s a dark fabric, I’m sure it’s hardly noticeable.”

He was met with a bewildered look as Annette slowly raised her head, hands already rising to wipe away tears and snot. “No, n-no,” she said, interrupted by her own sniffles, “That’s not… not what I meant.” She looked down at her feet again, on the way catching sight of the stain she had left on her classmate’s uniform.

_Though maybe I ought to apologize for that too..._

She shook her head, trying desperately to think clearly for the first time today.

“It’s just… I… you were… and…” She was fighting a losing battle, there was simply too much she wanted to say, too much she wanted to apologize for. She felt herself starting to tear up again. She was surprised she had anymore tears left to shed. Whipping away what little she could, she managed at last to stammer out, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say…”

She felt so useless, she couldn’t even properly apologize. She was shocked then, when through her tears, she saw Hubert bowing to her. Even leaning over, and bowing as deeply as he was accustomed to, his head was barely below her own. She wiped her eyes again, but he was still there, in the same position.

“Allow me then…” he said in an astonishingly even tone for one who had just been sobbed on, “Allow me to say, thank you.” 

Once again, it was Annette’s turn to be confused. After all, why would he thank her? It was she who needed instruction out on the training grounds. It was she who had set off the spell that landed him in the infirmary. She couldn’t wrap her mind around why he of all people would be thanking her. She swallowed hard. She was a mess, mentally and physically… but she couldn’t let something like this slip by her. “Why…what do you have to thank me for?”

Hubert rose up again to his full height. _By the Goddess, he’s still so tall._ Although Annette had been thoroughly intimidated by him just yesterday, she didn’t feel the same way now. Perhaps it was because he was standing before her relatively sheepishly- or perhaps it was simply because she had given herself so many other things to worry about.

Clearing his throat, Hubert suddenly found it difficult to look Annette in the eyes- and not just because they were swollen due to hours of crying. “I, uh…” He was uncertain of how to phrase what he wanted to say without sounding strange, he had been unconscious after all. “Professor Manuela said that you stayed by me while I was asleep.” He smiled chuckling to himself slightly, “I heard it took Lady Edelgard and the Professor all they had to make you leave. I can’t speak for Manuela, but my liege certainly is not weak.” He bowed once more, not quite as deeply as before, “So thank you, Annette, for your desire to see me recover.”

Just as Hubert had put up his hands in surprise, Annette did so now. “No, please, don’t worry a-a-about it!” She bit her tongue to keep herself from stammering out something foolish. She wanted to say that of course she’d stay by his side. She wanted to apologize still. She’d only caused him trouble. She hadn’t done anything worth being thankful for. She hadn’t done anything…

_That’s it then_!

She’d just have to do something! She would have to work to make it all up to Hubert! Then they could talk as equals; and she wouldn’t have to bear this guilt any longer. A smile- a real smile untarnished by sadness- graced her lips for the first time since their walk to the training grounds together. Now, at last, she had something she could _do._ She could finally start fixing this mess she had caused. “You… um…” Her mind raced to think of something she could do for him, “You must be hungry! Mercie and I have some sweet buns if you’d like to join us…” She had turned around to point to where they had been sitting, but, rather mysteriously, it seemed that Mercedes had vanished. No matter, that would just mean it would be the two of them.

_Just… the two… of us…_

Hubert did not notice Annette trailing off- for as soon as she had mentioned food, Hubert noticed at once just how hungry he was. After all, he hadn’t had anything to eat since yesterday’s breakfast- which may have been nothing more than a cup of coffee now that he thought about it. “I suppose you are correct,” he confessed, “I’d love to join you two for…” He followed her gaze and noticed two remarkable things. The first was the large quantity of books stacked up around the table she had indicated. The second was the small quantity of Mercedes- in fact, there was none to be found. His stomach growled, apparently having woken up at long last. Hubert decided he could consider both these observations later- right now he needed food. “It appears that Mercedes has left. Would you mind terribly if I took her seat?”

Our dear Annette was flustered again. Where had Mercie taken off to? Didn’t she realize the position she had left her friend in? She swallowed hard, realizing Mercedes was likely very aware of the situation she had created. Before she could object- and she wasn’t quite sure she _wanted_ to object- they had made their way to the table. Before she could stop herself- and she wasn’t quite sure she _wanted_ to stop herself- she had offered him her untouched plate of sweet buns.

“Could I get you something to drink? Maybe some tea?” She recalled suddenly the strong scent of coffee that so often followed Edelgard’s vassal, “Or erm- some coffee?” She paused- would it be weird for her to know he drinks coffee? They had never talked about it before after all. “Well, I um… know you drink it in class sometimes? I’ve never had it but smells lovely!” She was struggling to answer a question Hubert simply had not asked. She didn’t even like coffee!

Hubert was too busy enjoying Annette’s sweet buns to notice anything strange about her behavior. He nodded, still chewing on the delightfully fluffy pastry, “Yes erhm…” He swallowed, “Yes, Annette, I’d appreciate that.”

He had hardly bitten into the second sweet bun when Annette returned, coffee mug in hand. Just barely in view, he caught sight of one of the kitchen staff members fidgeting nervously as she watched the unusual pair. The poor cook jumped slightly, realizing she had been caught, and busied herself cleaning an already spotless dish. Hubert paid her little mind as he took a sip from the coffee Annette had just handed him.

It took all he had not to spit it out.

He managed to gulp it down before saying, “It’s… very sweet.”

Sweet was a generous description of the drink. It was more sugar and creamer than it was coffee. Hell, it seemed there wasn’t even enough liquid for all the sugar crystals she added to dissolve. For Annette’s sake, he hoped this wasn’t how she usually took her drinks, or she’d live a tragically shortened life. He winced as he took a second, polite sip.

Annette, unphased by his initial reaction, simply smiled. “Yup! I made sure to add lots of sugar- since I hear it can be bitter.” Her smile faded, however, when she watched him take his mouthful. He appeared to almost be in pain. Had she not added quite enough sweetener? No, that was unlikely, she had nearly emptied the sugar jar into his mug.

Her eyes fell. “Is it… too sweet?” She’d done it, she’d messed up again. She should have known the kitchen was the wrong place to try to make up for her mistakes… “I know some people like spicy foods more than sweets, but I just didn’t know when it came to coffee…”

Hubert put down his mug. Well, at the very least, his classmate could admit when she made a mistake- that was more than could be said for the majority of his fellow nobles. Still, he had to be certain she didn’t come away with the wrong idea. “It’s perfectly fine, Annette,” Hubert was lying through his sugar-coated teeth. “Regardless, I’d much prefer sweet coffee to,” he shuddered involuntarily, “Spicy coffee.”

While he had hoped his words would lift Annette’s spirits slightly, he did not expect them to elicit a giggle from her. He had not intended to make a joke; the idea of spicy coffee was genuinely terrifying to him. Still, it seemed that he had accomplished his aim. He couldn’t help but smile. On the rare instances he allowed himself a dry joke with Lady Edelgard, they usually made her roll her eyes rather than laugh.

It was a nice feeling, making someone laugh. He had nearly forgotten the sensation.

His attention turned now, at last, to the piles of books Annette had covered the table with. He supposed her studiousness must rival even Lysithea’s. He was familiar with the titles of most of the texts, though he had not read the majority of them. “I can see you have a veritable library here,” he said gesturing between them, “Would you care for an impromptu study session?”

“Oh!” Annette’s eyes grew wide. “Well, um, yes! I mean, yes, I suppose that’s a good idea.” In truth, studying was just about the last thing that Annette wanted to do right now. But given the opportunity to spend time with Hubert- especially at his request- she simply couldn’t refuse.

“Wonderful. Perhaps we could start with… wind magic?”

“Hey! That’s not funny!”

“To each their own- but your smile suggests otherwise.”

And so, they passed some time together- too consumed by the content in front of them to notice the sideways glances or suspicious whispers that surrounded them. In truth, the study session did not last terribly long. Annette was tired not only of taking notes and turning pages, but of being awake in general After eventually relenting and allowing Hubert to help her carry her books back up to her dorm room, she collapsed onto her bed, still in her uniform, a smile on her sleeping face.

Likewise, Hubert left the dormitories with a smile on his face- though it was one he couldn’t quite find a reason for. The smile only faded when he stopped while walking down the staircase- a sudden realization crashing over him- one he wasn’t sure how to feel about.

He had completely forgotten about his plan to recruit Mercedes.


	5. Confrontation: Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleepover is when two friends come together with the intention of doing anything but sleeping.

The intervening weeks since her last run in with Hubert had been difficult for our poor, dear Annette. She had gone from secretly wishing for any sign of acknowledgement from her classmate, to being almost overwhelmed by even the little she received. It did not take much from Hubert to send her mind into a frenzy- a simple nod or polite greeting was all- but even these small gestures sent her over the edge. She lived in a constant state of conflict; glad to be recognized by the man she had spent months staring at from a distance, while also terrified of embarrassing herself in front of him. Or indeed, the worst-case scenario… accidentally blasting him into a wall with wind magic again. The fact that such a thing was deeply, profoundly unlikely did little to alleviate her fears.

So, she was relieved when, on a crisp, rapidly cooling evening, she was invited to a sleepover by her lifelong best friend, Mercedes. At long last, Annette felt she would be able to unwind, comfortable in the company of her most trusted friend. She wouldn’t have to worry about schoolwork, training, or what a certain Adrestian mage thought of her. In Annette’s mind nowhere was safer than where Mercedes was. The healer had this innate, almost magical, ability to make the space around her feel safe and calm, whether it be amidst the confusion of the battlefield or the equally chaotic space around a teenage girl’s heart. Annette often wondered just how she exuded such a peaceful aura- and wished she could do so herself. But so long as she had Mercedes by her side, Annette would be happy to simply bask in her presence.

As she prepared for the night, carefully brushing out her hair in case Mercie decided she wanted to braid it again, she couldn’t help but smile. Things like this always brought out Annette’s inner child… and what a playful child she was. A quiet little song, just for her, escaped her lips. Fortunately, as your all-seeing, all-knowing, all-hearing narrator, I was able to listen in on it for you, my dear reader. I hope you can forgive my inability to convey it’s tune to you. 

_I’m going to a sleepover; I’d better pack the turnovers!_

_Heading down the stairs, my good friend Mercie is there…s…._

_Pajamas and sweets, so many tasty treats!_

_We’ll drink some tea, maybe do some make-overs,_

_Mhmm mhmm, that’s what you do at sleepovers!_

Despite the lyrics, Annette did not have any turnovers to pack. Strictly speaking, she could have packed the charred remains of the turnovers she had tried to bake that morning. But she, quite rightly, decided it was best to leave those half dozen mistakes in the past. It would take more than the lingering scent of burnt pastry to ruin her day!

Her humming continued as she changed out of her school uniform into the pajamas she had just sung about. She, of course, knew that she _could_ change around Mercie, but something always felt wrong about that, especially since her friend would certainly be wearing comfortable clothes when she arrived. Annette had decided long ago that she would not let herself be jealous of her best friend’s figure, or anyone else’s for that matter. There were far more important things to think about than something she couldn’t control. Still, try as she might to remain logical about it, there was no getting around some involuntary embarrassment- especially when girls like Dorothea and Hilda were hardly a year older than her. Not mention Petra was even a year younger than-!

Annette shook her head as the nightgown slipped over her head. Now wasn’t the time to think about such things- she was determined to enjoy herself to night. A soft smile returned to her lips as she looked in the mirror, smoothing out the few wrinkles in the fabric. She had actually bought this particular piece with Mercie on a shopping trip in Fhirdiad- which felt like ages ago now. It was a light, loose fitting yellow dress with a lace trim that fell right at her knee. Mercie had picked it out for her, saying it would, “Compliment that beautiful sparkle in your eyes!” And as much as she had protested at the time, as she looked at her reflection, Annette was grateful her friend had forced her to buy it. So much had changed since then, yet the two mages had remained inseparable all that time. Nights like this were no small part of the glue that held them together, and Annette was determined to make this one of the best yet, turnovers or not. After psyching herself up with a little twirl and two pumped fists, she was ready to go.

Of course, changing in her room made getting to Mercie’s a bit more challenging. Sure, it was only a dozen feet and stone staircase that separated their rooms, but she couldn’t just wander out into the cold in her pajamas, no matter how nice she thought she looked in them! She dared not even imagine how she’d reach if one of her teachers saw her, or worse, if-!  
  
 _No, no, nopeity nope nope! We’re going to have a good night Annette!_

Shaking any unwelcome thoughts of potential embarrassment out of her head, she hurriedly grabbed a plain gray cloak and a pair of slippers. She had hardly gotten the second slipper on her foot when she burst out into the chilly evening air. The sudden decrease in temperature hit her square in the face- but was unable to wipe the smile from it. She made it to Mercedes’s door in what had to be record time, due to both a desire to get out of the cold and to get the night started. A shiver creeped through her body as she parted the cloak to knock at the door, exposing her midsection to the night’s chill. No sooner had Annette finished that first knock did a gentle voice lilt through the door.

“Oh, Come on in Annie!”

Annette couldn’t help but smile as she opened the door and slipped inside as quickly as she could. That smile only widened as she saw her friend, already seated at her low table, a teacup in hand and a blanket over her legs. A simple white nightgown gently hugged her figure, but Annette imaged she’d look just as cozy in heavy armor as she did in this. It was as if the girl was simply born to relax.

“You know,” Annette said playfully as she left her slippers and cloak by the door, “It might not have been me out there, it could’ve been just about anyone.”

A wistful smile graced Mercedes’s lips, before being overtaken by a light chuckle. “Why yes, it _could_ have been anyone,” she put down her teacup and gestured to the other side of the table, where a selection of quilts had already been laid out. “But it wasn’t just anyone, it was you! And even if it had been someone else, I’m sure they would have been kind enough to stay for tea.”

“Oh Mercie…” Annette couldn’t help but giggle as she sat down opposite her friend, “You’re just too nice for your own good.”

And so, the two began their evening together. There was plenty for them to discuss over tea and biscuits- after Annette profusely apologized for being unable to provide the turnovers she had tried to make. They chatted idly for some time about classes, the strangeness of that new sullen Professor, and general Garreg Mach gossip (rumor had it Dorothea had called Ferdinand a bee, or something similar, which Ferdinand had apparently taken quiet well. Perhaps _too_ well). It was an easy conversation, flowing naturally from one topic to the next, interrupted only by that comfortable silence often shared by two hearts that understand each other well. While Annette never had a sister to share such moments with growing up, she was certain that this is what having one would have felt like. So, when Mercedes, as she often did on nights like this, asked if she could braid her hair, Annette wholeheartedly agreed.

There was just something Annette found so comfortable about leaning back against her friend, closing her eyes, and listening to Mercedes’s gentle humming as she combed her hair before beginning her work. She could feel the tension leaving her body as she remembered what it was like to relax- to rest for the sake of resting. Annette felt like she could stay like this forever, leaving worries about schoolwork, relationships, even her family behind for a short time. The only thing she had to focus on was enjoying this moment- and not falling asleep in the middle of it. She hadn’t relaxed like this in ages. She couldn’t waste it sleeping! To keep herself awake, she reached out and brought her teacup to her lips, its aroma and warmth just sharp enough to keep her drowsing off entirely.

It was now that Mercedes spoke again, as though she had been waiting for a que to deliver her next line. “So, Annie… have you kissed Hubert yet?”

What followed next one of those truly chaotic moments that seemed to follow Annette wherever she went. Annette’s natural reaction to the question was to gasp- completely forgetting the sip of tea she had just taken. Unfortunately for her, the human windpipe doesn’t take kindly to tea getting too close. As a result, Annette spewed tea across Mercedes’s table, her eyes watering up slightly as she coughed, “M-Mercie-!” She dove to try to clean up the mess, though what exactly she would have done to do so at this stage is a mystery to even myself. The point is moot, however, as Mercedes still held a firm grasp on her friend’s hair, meaning that as soon as Annette tried to pull away, she was painfully (albeit accidentally) pulled back by her hair. Falling backwards with a yelp, Annette lost her grip on her teacup, which soared away from her, landing with a lethal crack on the table, its shattered remnants and contents flying outward.

With her hair freed, Annette scrambled to her feet, a chorus of, “I’m sorrys” ringing out like bells before a Church service. She quickly grabbed a cleaning rag- whose location Annette had become painfully aware of due to a generous supply of previous accidents. For her part, Mercedes could not stop laughing even as she wiped the tears from her eyes. Annette stifled her own frustrated tears as she soaked up what had been, until recently, a truly delicious cup of tea.

“Oh, don’t worry Annie…” Mercedes managed to get out between laughs when she saw her friend fretting over what to do with the broken shards of porcelain she had collected, “I always…” another laugh broke through, “I always use the cheap set when you come over anyway.”

Annette could only respond with a huff as she threw away what remained of her teacup, her cheeks flushed with a double dose of embarrassment from Mercedes’s initial question and her own response to it. “Meeeeercie…” she said with a groan as she sat opposite her friend, in the spot her host had originally held, “You can’t just say things like that!”

Mercedes tilted her head, as if confused, but a mischievously knowing smile betrayed that ruse. “Oh, why not?” The question seemed innocent enough, but Annette knew better than to believe it truly was. The blonde continued, “You like him, don’t you, Annie?”

“That’s… um, well…” Annette looked down at her hands, her face burning up now to the point she might have been able to brew another pot of tea atop it. She twirled her thumbs helplessly under Mercedes’s gaze.

“Come on now Annie, you know you don’t need to lie to me, right?”

At this, Annette’s eyes shot up, “Oh no- Mercie you know I’d never!” Her eyes fell to the side just as quickly as they had risen, “It’s just… it’s embarrassing…” her voice trailed off, an admission of guilt if ever there was one.

As she often did in tiny moment of triumph, Mercedes clapped her hands together, her head tilting to the side slightly as she smiled, “Aww, I knew it! Come now Annie, you must tell me everything!”

“E-e-e…Everything?”

“Yes! Well, maybe not _every_ thing, since we can’t stay up all night…” Mercedes’s self-satisfied smile only grew. “But I _knew_ it! I knew you liked him!” She tossed her hair back, imitating what she had seen longer haired knights do after completing some impressive feat. “You’re an open book that only I can read!”

Annette’s brow furrowed slightly, “I’m not quite sure that’s how the phrase goes Mercie…” Still, she was relieved that Mercedes felt she was the only one that knew her secret. Indeed, she was just about to breathe a literal sigh of relief when Mercedes continued on.

“So, what do you like about him?”

Instantly, Annette sprang back to attention, her eyes darting around the room. Why did she like him? There were plenty of reasons, sure, but she had never once attempted to express them before. “Oh, well um…” She had no reason to hide anything anymore, but that didn’t make exposing what she had been hiding t any easier. “Well… he’s smart… he seems more mature than most of other boys here… he’s always been nice to me-.”

“Oh, he’s quite tall too,” Mercedes said, as if hinting at something.

Annette feared she knew exactly Mercedes was hinting at and shut it down quickly. “I mean, yeah, but it’s not like that!” This, despite her earlier commitment to honesty, was a lie, as it was very much, “like that.” She felt compelled to lie, even though she knew Mercedes would never judge her for being physically attracted to someone. No, it was that oh-so-sinister self-imposed judgment that kept her admitting to it out loud. She picked up one of the quilts from the floor that hadn’t been soaked with tea and hugged it to her chest, her eyes shimmering in the warm light of the Mercedes’s lamp. After a moment of internal conflict, Annette settled on ending with, “He just… has this mysterious element to him. I guess I just want to get to know him better.” She looked down at her hands again, which had tightened themselves into tiny fists around the blanket without her knowledge. “I just… I feel like he’d never notice me…” The words fell softly from her mouth of their own accord.

For the first time since her prying began, Mercedes’s face softened. It was clear her friend was struggling with a complicated confluence of conflicting emotions, each exasperating every expression she tried to convey. She was determined to help poor Annie out, even if she had objectively little experience in such things.

“Well, Annie, when was the last time you talked to him?” A new, wholly earnest expression took over Mercedes’s face as she prompted her struggling friend.

Annette bit her lower lip, trying to save what little dignity she had left by hiding her self-consciousness further. “That would be… after I nearly killed him with my wind magic…” 

“Oh! Well, why don’t you just do that again then?”

“Mercie!”

The blonde’s laughter prompted her ginger friend to toss the quilt she had been holding at her, which served only to muffle the continued laughter for a moment. As Mercedes removed the blanket from her face, her hair, usually so well behaved, shot out in every direction. After a moment of staring, both girls broke out again into fits of side-splitting laughter. It had been an emotional rollercoaster of a night. Not that either girl would have used that phrase, as rollercoasters would not come to Fodlan for hundreds of years. And even if they had known about them, Annette never would have ridden one unless Mercedes forced her to- much as she had tonight.

As she came down from her laughter, eyes only a tad wet with tears, Annette sighed and pouted slightly. “Mercie… what am I going to do?”

After regaining her own composure, Mercedes ran her fingers through her hair to try and get it back under control, before ultimately giving up and refocusing on her friend. “Oh Annie, you sweet thing.” Moving for the second time that night, Mercedes positioned herself kneeling behind Annette, running her hands through the young girl’s hair again. “I don’t know much about these things,” she admitted, “But it sounds to me like you just need to spend some more time with him. I’m sure he’ll see how just lovely you are if you’re together.”

Annette closed her eyes. It was a nice thought. For just a moment, it made her smile, but only for a moment. Could it be true? Was it really just that simple? No, it couldn’t be. She was just Annette, after all. She was short and clumsy… too cowardly to even talk to him. She didn’t have the grace or the figure of her older female classmates, who all seemed so confident. Confidence like that felt so far out of her reach. She simply couldn’t compare…

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mercie,” Annette said quietly, her internalized defeat evident in her voice. “But I don’t know… I don’t know what he’d see in me. I’m just…me.”

What followed was silence, heavier than any silence that had come before. The next feeling that Annette felt was Mercedes’s hands in her hair stopping, then pulling away. “Mercie?” Annette hardly began her question when she was interrupted by a pair of arms wrapped tightly around her from behind.

“You’re a silly little songbird, Annie,” Mercedes softly whispered as she held her friend. This simple coo of a reprimand pieced through Annette’s defenses more than any scolding ever could. Mercedes knew this well and doubled down, speaking with a gentle seriousness she had mastered through years of working with the Church. “Annie, you’re the sweetest, kindest, cutest girl in all of Fodlan. You’ve stayed with me through thick and thin- I can’t imagine how truly dreadful my life would be if I didn’t have you.”

Mercedes tightened her hold on her friend, prompting a weak, “Mercie,” from Annette, overwhelmed both by the blonde’s words and her grip.

Undeterred, both her hug and her words continued. “You are the best thing about this place, and anyone who can’t see that is a fool. That includes you, Annie.” That last sentence was punctuated not only with a comma, but also with one last squeeze from Mercedes. With that, she let her younger friend go, and returned to working on her hair. “If he spends any time with you, any at all, I’m sure he’ll see that,” she said, her tone more cheerful now. “You could study together; you could go for a picnic… Oh! Maybe you could get Professor Byleth to take you on a mission with the Black Eagles!” Mercedes chuckled as one more idea crossed her mind. “Maybe you could even have him braid your hair! Though the Goddess knows I’d miss it.”

Annette, who had been silently taking all this in, shook her head at that last comment. “No,” she said quietly. Slowly, she turned around, getting up on her knees to hug her friend tightly. “No, Mercie, he won’t do that.” She held her friend closer, not caring how tight she squeezed her. “No matter what, no one is ever going to replace you.” Annette looked up to her friend’s soft blue eyes, “We’ll be together forever, okay?” Mercedes could only nod, smiling down and hugging her back, albeit more gently. The two of them stayed like that for some time, eyes closed, silently enjoying that unique comfort than only the very best of friends can provide.

After what simultaneously felt like a moment and an eternity, Annette finally managed to whisper what she had really wanted to say from the moment she had turned around.

“Thank you.”

Mercedes, with one final press into their embrace, nodded and pulled back. “Of course, Annie,” was all she needed to say.

But, of course, being the friends they were, and this still being a sleepover after all, Mercedes couldn’t help but say more, “Let’s get you another cup of tea.” She stood up slowly, legs stiff from kneeling for so long, and made her way over to her shelf. “Let’s see, I should have a cup with a lid on it for you somewhere in here…”

“Mercie!” Annette squeaked at this sudden return to playful jabs, before sticking out her tongue.

And so, their night together continued- but we’ll take our leave here to enjoy each other’s company in private.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience with this fic. I had expected a break from graduate school would give me more time to work on this, but it seems the opposite was true. I suppose I had nothing I wanted to distract myself from.  
> Expect more regular updates as this semester continues!


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